Rebel
by thrxnduils
Summary: 'Amin feuya ten 'lle.' / You disgust me. 'Amin luhta ten 'lle.' / You enchant me. {Tauriel x Thranduil} [Rated M for later scenes and violence]
1. Chapter 1

Tauriel had not quite been the same since Erebor. She was still a young Captain - her post and rank was ensured as long as Legolas remained in the favour of his father - but the Tauriel that Thranduil had known was no longer the Tauriel who had sauntered through his Halls day by day, her flaming hair echoing the flaming grin on her lips.

Tauriel herself had been taken aback by the events of the last few months. How easily and quickly she had found herself swallowed up by emotions for the dwarf - Kili - so easily and quickly that she had often found herself questioning whether it was real or not. But the anguish that had flowed through her veins when he had died in her arms, and the fervour and passion she had felt as she had raced toward him - how could that have not been real?

She was sitting on a rock which jutted out over a small coursing stream. Sometimes Tauriel liked to sit in certain parts of Mirkwood on sunny days, and let the nostalgia take her. Mirkwood had been a haven for elves for centuries, and sometimes if she closed her eyes - she could almost hear the patter of feet or excited calls of elves of the olden days who ran past where she sat now.

'Tauriel?'

A male voice shook her from her daydream, and she turned.

It was a guard who served within the Hall of the King. Rennyn.

'Hello, Rennyn.'

'_Quel re,'_ he responded. _Good day._ He opened his mouth to continue.

'Our King Thranduil has requested an audience with you tonight, when the moon rises in the sky.'

Tauriel's pleasant smile faded. She had not forgotten how he had snapped her bow with a curve of his sword during the Battle, nor how he had accused her love for Kili as being a falsity - regardless of how he had eaten his words afterward. She thought about that moment sometimes. Rocking Kili's head in her arms, glancing up at Thranduil through tear-splashed lashes - and for a quick second, she had almost thought she had seen the smallest flicker of vulnerability flash through his eyes.

She remembered accusing him of being loveless, and a pained half-smile played on her lips again.

'Thank you, Rennyn.'

He nodded his head and turned on his heel, heading back toward the Hall.

Tauriel stretched her legs across as far as they could go, dipping the tips of her boots into the stream. The water eased over them with a gentle wet sound, and she let out a sigh.

Nothing Thranduil could want from her now could be good news.

* * *

><p>The moon was amost in the sky, she thought - back in her quarters. She was brushing through her fiery red hair, taming it down. She felt a bit sheepish - she had not really been in contact with the King since her emotional meltdown before him in the Battle. After giving it some weeks to stew, she felt more and more idiotic about ever having heated exchanges with her King about love.<p>

So she tamed her red waves, put on a long-sleeved, long green dress that fitted her frame and kissed her toes - _elves were not in the fashion of puffy, pointless dresses - _and sat for a second to set her mind to keeping herself as distant and cordial as possible. She was aware if it had not been for her friendship with Legolas, Thranduil would have had her out of his kingdom by now - even if he had been wrong about her and Kili.

When the first rays of the moonlight washed through her window she got up, and slid through the door. She walked across the grass toward the King's Halls, nodding at the Guards who stood down to let her pass.

She entered the Halls gingerly, stopping a few feet before the throne. It was empty.

'Tauriel.'

His voice preceded his entrance into the room, but he didn't even look at her as he stepped up toward his throne, settling himself on it.

'_Quel undome, heru en amin.'_ _Good evening, my Lord._

'You have been distant since the battle.'

'I have been keeping busy, my King.'

'Have I offended you, Tauriel?'

The bluntness of the question threw her off - and now he was looking at her - _really looking at her._ Not a passing gaze, or an unseeing stare. She could feel the gray eyes boring into her own. The eye contact was so sudden but unsettlingly strong. She felt that looking away would be admitting defeat to some sort of fight she had to win.

He was beautiful, she thought. Beautiful, but so dangerous. So unpredictable.

'You have not, my King.'

'So why do you no longer bless these halls with your laughter and merriments like you used to?'

His voice carried a note of sarcasm and dry humor, and Tauriel knew he had had a little too much to drink.

'I did not realize you counted it as a blessing.'

He laughed, breaking the eye contact. Tauriel felt herself let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. He kicked one leg over an arm of the throne, pressing one hand to his temples.

'I have been thinking, Tauriel. Thinking to invade dwarf lands to expand the Elven dominion.'

Tauriel heard the guttural laugh rip from her lips before she could stop herself.

'Of course you would think that. Another absolutely ridiculous idea, very befitting of yourself.'

Thranduil's head snapped back in her direction, his gaze white hot at her insult.

'What did you just say?'

Tauriel had always been in the favour of the King - allowed to make remarks and pardoned for comments that others would have paid a hefty price for - but she had never directly insulted his rule. He rose from the throne and descended to her, and she felt the atmosphere in the room pressing down on her from all sides. Her ears felt hot.

'Your wretched _love_ for that dwarf has clouded your judgement,' he spat, venom hot around the word 'love', as if it were something so misplaced and laughable - he may have well been talking about a dove in an army of Orcs. 'In case you have not remembered - your duties lie with your kind. Any remote affections you have nursed for the Dwarves should have died with him.'

Tauriel's ears were burning even more now. She stepped toward him, her brows set in a scornful frown.

'You do not know what I felt for Kili,' she said, in a quiet, seething voice. 'You, yourself - you said it was real.'

'I say many things,' he said, dismissing her words with a hand. 'A word of comfort here and there - it seems it went amiss. My priority has been - and always will be - my people. Not them.'

'I'm leaving,' Tauriel snapped, turning on her heel. Thranduil threw forward his arm, grabbing her by the elbow, pulling her back.

'I have not bid you leave.'

'I'm not asking your permission!'

Tauriel felt the anger burning through her skin, and she hoped for a surreal second that her skin would be hot enough to burn his fingers on her. She resented his touch - she resented all of him, as she had never resented anything before.

'_Amin fueya ten 'lle.' You disgust me._

His eyes bore straight into hers again. '_Rine sinome, Tauriel!'_ _Be careful Tauriel!_

She glared at him defiantly, pressing her thumb into her palm to force herself to keep staring directly at him. The aggressive set of his mouth eased off into its more familiar set of arrogant displeasure, and his shoulders relaxed.

'Perhaps I am a little overindulged,' he said, his voice soft now. 'Perhaps there has been too much wine in me tonight.'

Tauriel was aware that he was closer to her than any male had ever been - save for the time she had kissed Kili's dead mouth.

'I resent them, Tauriel,' he said, enunciating each word clearly, as if to fend off the drunkenness. 'I resent them so much.'

'They left on good terms,' Tauriel managed, through gritted teeth. 'They did not harm you. They worked with your people.'

'History cannot be changed for the good of one or two,' Thranduil almost whispered. He was still holding her by her elbow - and he reached out another hand to tug a lock of her hair between his fingers.

'Red,' he murmured. 'So red. Just like your temper.. your fire..'

'I must leave,' Tauriel said sharply, pulling herself away from him. 'We may discuss strategic measures when the wine has left your head.'

She saw his head cock to the left as he looked at her from head to toe - noticing his eyes lingering on the curve of her hips in the dress, and her exposed collarbones.

She turned away. 'I bid you farewell, King.'

'Yes, _lirimaerea.'_

Tauriel's eyes widened as she left, his final word echoing in her head.

_Lirimaerea._

_Lovely one._

_Let me know what you have thought of it thus far! Chapter 2 should be up by tomorrow night. All constructive criticism and comments mean the absolute world! x_


	2. Chapter 2

Tauriel had lain in her bed for a long time after she had left the King's Halls, contemplating their interaction. She had seen the hunger in his eyes and his face - she had really _seen_ him for the first time. In all the years she had worked under him, she had not ever been so close to him. Close enough to the grey irises, the arrogant, pretty mouth, the straight nose, the cheekbones that caught the candlelight and descended into high hollows.

She couldn't deny that he scared her. She couldn't deny that she was defiant and had moments where she was even more arrogant than he was. She couldn't deny that he was her King. But she couldn't deny the burning in her belly and the tightening between her thighs that night when he had one hand on her elbow and the other in her hair.

She tried to be disgusted at herself. Tried to shake it off. What she had told him upon Erebor - _'there is no love in you!'_ echoed in her mind, time after time, after time.

Kili had not been dead a year yet, she thought. It was just an ache she was feeling. Just a stupid, pointless, little ache. It would go away.

And yet, it did not.

* * *

><p>Thranduil found numerous reasons for Tauriel to be in his Halls over the next several weeks. He had her reporting to him even more regularly than usual, and made swift business of setting up a new quarter for her to carry out her bidding within the Throne Hall itself. The other elves believed that Tauriel's fighting side by side with Legolas in the Battle Of The Five Armies had caused the King to favour her even more.<p>

But Tauriel knew it was not that. She did not miss his lingering gazes, the way he smirked at her with that _arrogance_ that made her want to reach out and punch him in the face. She had almost drawn her arrow when he passed behind her and almost innocently - reached out a hand and passed it along the small of her back.

'My mistake,' he had called over his shoulder as he walked away - and she could have heard the smile in his voice. And try as she might have, Tauriel could never force away the catapults in her stomach or the heat that pooled in her body at his gaze or his touch. But she made every effort to minimize her contact with him as much as she could.

* * *

><p>It was for that precise reason that on one starry summer night, when she realized that there was no one in the Hall but herself and the King and the Guards outside, she almost leaped over her chair, leaving her papers and inks and arrows on the table. She held her breath and slipped out of the room, praying to the sun and the stars and the moon that he would not see her.<p>

'Tauriel.'

She gritted her teeth, stopping dead in her tracks.

'_Heru en amin.'_ _My Lord._

The throne Hall was dark, and he stood against the doorway, moonlight and darkness streaming in behind him.

'Come.'

She let out a calculated sigh, and stood straight, stepping deliberately toward him in a show of '_Good day, I am your servant, and nothing more.'_

He smirked at her, and she felt that he was seeing right through her skin and her bones. He was wearing a grey-green silken tunic, his boots gentle and noiseless against the ground, his crown traded in for a starlight, simpler one that rested on his forehead.

He pointed at the sky, lit up by thousands upon thousands of glimmering stars.

'_Elen sila lumenn omentilmo.'_ _A star shall shine on the hour of our meeting._

Tauriel did not respond.

'How are you?'

'I am well,' she replied, in a businesslike tone. 'I hope I find you well too.'

Her King nodded. 'Yes.'

He held out a hand, and motioned for her to come forward with two fingers. 'Let us walk.'

Tauriel sucked in a breath and treaded after him into the night. Mirkwood was even more beautiful in the night than it was in the day - haunting, brooding, lovely. The trees parted to make way for a gentle corridor carpeted by fallen leaves and green grass - strategically created for the King's leisure. The stars blinked down on them, casting everywhere in a silver shadow, reflecting off dewy droplets.

'Beautiful in the night, is it not?'

'It is, My Lord.'

Thranduil turned to her, and she felt her stomach knot. The moonlight and the starlight fell over his face, and she had never seen anything look more royal, more intimidating, more beautiful - in her entire life. He beckoned her again.

_'Tula sinome.'_ _Come here._

She stepped forward.

Another step.

Another.

And she was right in front of him, hardly daring to look up. She had never yet felt such a mix of emotions - fear, anger, the burning in her belly, the defiance in her heart.

It built inside of her so much that she couldn't help the little sigh that managed to push past her lips as he put a hand on her face, his thumb running down the curve of her cheekbones.

'Don't,' she barely whispered. 'Please.'

'_Lle naa vanima, Tauriel.'_ _You are so beautiful, Tauriel._

She closed her eyes, as if willing herself to disappear. 'You banished me.'

'I hated seeing you with that _dwarf_,' he hissed, his voice seething at the final word. The anger rushed up to Tauriel's throat, like bile.

'His name was Kili, and he is dead now. He is dead, are you happy?'

'More than you would like me to be.' Thranduil's voice was slick with his usual haughty tone, and Tauriel wanted to smack the crown right off his arrogant head. She shook her head, wrenching it from his hand, and turned to leave.

_'Amin fueya ten 'lle.' You disgust me._

He caught her by the hand, stopping her.

'_Amin luhta ten 'lle.' You enchant me._

That stopped her. She turned back to him, her eyes glistening with frustrated tears.

'So why did you banish me?'

'I was angry. It would not have come to pass either way. You know Legolas would not have allowed it.'

'You say that now.'

'I meant it always, Tauriel.'

Her name on his tongue made her dizzy in a way she found herself liking far too much. His hand, still holding her wrist, slid down and locked her fingers between his, then drawing her close again. She looked up at him, straight in his eyes. No one had ever held her hand before. Not like this.

She was nervous. It was a foreign feeling.

He leaned down, and his lips touched the corner of her mouth. She felt her eyes close, and she involuntarily took in a ragged breath.

'Kiss me,' he murmured against her face, and she felt herself blush, red hot.

'I..I don't know how.'

He drew back from her, and she hated herself for sounding like an inexperienced child. His smirk was back, more haughty and arrogant than ever now. And she hated him all over again for it.

'I saw you kiss that dead dwarf.'

'If you call him a dead dwarf one more time, I will walk away, and you cannot stop me.'

'I saw you kiss him.'

'I didn't really know what I was doing.'

She was being honest. She had just bent her head to his, and touched her lips to his. She had not felt anything like the stories described kisses to feel - but she had thought of it quite often, regarding it as her first and only kiss of her life thus far.

'The beautiful, wild Tauriel. The beautiful, wild, inexperienced, Tauriel.'

She glared at him. 'I will take my leave now.'

He laughed, slipping his hands around her waist, and pulling her so close to him that their bodies almost touched. Where his hands were on her, she could almost feel them burning into her skin. One hand reached up to hold her by her jaw, tipping her head back, and slightly to the right.

'You will forgive me if I impress you more than your dwarf friend did.'

She tried to retort, but her heart was in her throat. Even in battle, at the hands of a giant Orc ten times her size, her heart had never pounded this fast.

He was so close to her.

So close.

She closed her eyes.

_Electric._

The minute his lips touched hers, she felt herself melt into his hands. She was not prepared for it, and found herself reaching up and throwing her arms around his neck to steady herself against him. If this was how it felt to be kissed, she could not imagine wanting anything more in the world than more of it, right now.

He dragged out her bottom lip between his teeth and she uttered the smallest whimper of pleasure, and then a louder one, as she felt his tongue in her mouth, against hers, against her teeth, against her lips. He gently put one hand in her hair, pulling her head back, so he could kiss along her jaw, along her neck. When he kissed the spot between her throat and collarbone, she almost collapsed in his arms, and he grinned.

'Good to know,' he murmured, kissing his way back up to her lips again. She was surprised at how easily it flowed, how she managed to fall into sync with him. Eventually she was pushing against him, kissing him with fervor and grappling with him to control it, causing him to chuckle into her mouth and whisper '_piinea ohtar!' (little rebel)._

When he pulled away from her, she realized she was pressed against him, her arms around his neck, her breathing ragged, her heartbeat racing. He appraised her red cheeks and slightly swollen mouth with a sort of approval, leaning forward to kiss her lower lip one more time, before letting her go.

Embarrassed, she slowly drew back, putting her hands behind her back, and standing straight.

'Did you like that, Tauriel?'

She flushed fiercely, but she did not respond. He smirked.

'Good enough.' He paused, drinking in the sight of her one last time. 'You may go.'

She nodded brusquely. '_Quel du.' Good night._

'_Quel kaima, poikaerea,'_ he responded._ Sleep well, pure one._

Tauriel focussed hard on walking in a straight line, ignoring the light headedness that was washing over her. She left him in the corridor beneath the trees, and she couldn't help but feel a fleeting sense of something that she had never felt before. She felt like the queen of the songs and tales of old.

She had just been kissed by the Elven King, on a moonlit, sweet summer night, between the whispers of the thousand year old trees, beneath the smiling eyes of a million shining stars.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 2 everyone! Thank you for the lovely feedback on chapter one, I hope you will continue to stay with this story! All constructive criticism and comments are welcome, thank you so much for reading xxx<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

Her sleep was saturated with nightmares - full of vivid memories, rather than new scenarios.

The first time Kili smiled at her.

The time Kili pressed the runestone into her palm. _A promise._

The time it was her turn to press the runestone into his palm again. His cold, dead palm.

A kiss on his lips. Unfeeling. Unmoving. Dead.

Her King, Thranduil. Slicing her bow in half.

Thranduil, in all his fierce and glorious beauty. Thranduil's grey eyes that saw through her skin and through her bones. The eyes that were full of power and rage and ice and fire.

Kili.

Thranduil's thumb running along her cheekbone in the forest clearing. Just the two of them.

Kili.

Another kiss. Passionate. Full of life. Charging through her blood. Charging through her soul.

Kili.

Thranduil.

Kili was fading.

'_STOP IT!'_

She didn't realize she had screamed til the silence that followed became deafening, and there was a rustle and a knock on her door.

'Tauriel?'

'I'm all right,' she called, wearily. 'Just a bad dream.'

The footsteps at her door thudded away gently, and Tauriel sat up, her head in her hands. If this had been any other night, she would have found a way out of her room, into the woods, in the company of her best friend. But Legolas had left Mirkwood to seek out a new ally, and it had hurt them both for him to go. Legolas had begged her to come with him. She had seen the pleading in his eyes. But she could not. Erebor had shown her that she had a lot of training and learning to do before she could face the world out there - and as much defiance and fire that she harboured in her soul, she would not do him well to be a dead companion.

She wondered how her life had been if she was able to love Legolas the way he had loved her. The thought of Thranduil's earlier acknowledgement that she was below Legolas because she was Silvan gave her a sick kind of pleasure.

'The King thirsts for the lowly Silvan elf,' she murmured, with a grin. The grin faded as quickly as it came, and she lay back on her sheets, her face grim again. What could the King want from her? What could have caused his sudden onslaught? Why her? Why Tauriel? The Highborn Elves were masterful, beautiful creatures - their women sleek and stunning, blonde haired and bright eyed. Tauriel had often felt out of place among the elite -with her blazing red hair and bow and arrow. They had never looked down on her per say - her favor with Legolas and by extension the King, was common knowledge.

She turned onto her side, curling up into a ball. A sudden unfamiliar feeling flickered through her - a desire to have someone to fall into, to hold. The nights were hard. She was often fitful and restless, and when sleep came - it was full of dreams of dying dwarves and the smiling faces of Orcs. But she was exhausted, and she closed her eyes, and let herself fall back into the pits of darkness that claimed her every night.

* * *

><p>Consciousness came seeping back to her as she felt herself stirring in the morning. She lifted a palm to rub her eyes, squinting, then opening them, to adjust to the light. She laid back for a second - then yelped, and jumped out of bed.<p>

She had overslept.

For the first time in her life.

She wrapped the sheets around her naked body and headed to her washing quarters to get cleaned up, holding them up awkwardly behind her with one hand, as she closed the doorway between the sleeping quarters and the washing. Letting the sheets drop, she splashed water from an elegantly carved stone basin all over herself and then sank into a stone bath; sighing as she felt the pleasant temperature of the water against her skin, enveloping her. She set about chewing a clove to get the taste of sleep out of her mouth, running her wet hands through her hair, observing how the red seemed to get even deeper when it was damp and clung close to her skin.

Tauriel stood up, grabbing a white cloth and wrapped it around herself. She found herself praying that she could get dried off and changed in fair time, so her absence in Mirkwood that morning would not be too extensive - and hopefully not noticeable. If one thing had to be given to her - it would be credit for the seriousness with which she took her work as a young Captain of the Guard.

She opened the door and stepped out of the washing quarters, and froze.

'Why are you in here?' she asked, her heart pounding in her chest. She kept one hand on the door behind her, praying to slip back into the bath quarters and to lock a door between them.

King Thranduil was standing in her quarters, at the foot of her bed, looking down at the tunic and pants that laid on her rumpled sheets, yet to be slipped into after her bath.

'_Goheno nin.' Forgive me._ He smiled. 'I did not see you this morning, so I thought I would stop by to see if all was well.'

'I slept later than I expected,' Tauriel replied curtly. She gripped the cloth hard in her hands, pulling it tight around her. She was painfully aware that a portion of her legs and torso were blatantly visible, as were her bare arms.

'Not a common mistake for you, Tauriel.'

She flushed at the sound of her name, and he did not miss it. The arrogant smile was back. And the anger was bubbling in her stomach again.

'If that is all,' she said sharply. 'I'm afraid you have caught me at a bad time, my King.'

'On the contrary,' he said breezily, his eyes raking over her. 'I cannot imagine a better time.'

She could see the light in his eyes. The deafening desire that was engulfing the room. The way he looked at her - her flushed, damp skin, her wet hair that clung to her shoulders and her collarbones. Her long legs. Her defiant mouth. Her challenging eyes.

He took a step toward her, and she took a step back.

'If you come any closer to me, I will go back in here and lock this door.'

'Tauriel, why do you act this way? You know any other Elven woman in this kingdom would present herself before me like a full course meal.'

'I am not _any other woman,'_ she retorted scornfully.

'So you are not,' Thranduil agreed. He was wearing a high collared tunic of silver and green silk, which clashed in a magnificent way with his blonde hair - and although he did not wear any crown today, he had never looked more majestic nor startlingly beautiful.

She pointed to the door. 'Please take your leave now, my King.'

'Tauriel why do you run from me?' he asked, but the smugness in his voice was clear. 'Have you forgotten that night in the woods?'

She remained silent.

'Have you forgotten the way your eyes lit up or how fast your heart was beating - have you forgotten the little sighs that nobody has gotten from you but me?'

She glared at him.

'We have much business to discuss. When you are decent you may join us in the Throne Hall.'

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. But before she could react, he closed the distance between them in two long strides, putting his hand on the door of the bath quarters, so she could not. She felt her back rubbing against the wooden exterior of the door. The burning in her belly was back - pressed between the door and the King.

He touched his mouth to her jawbone, and she shut her eyes, willing herself not to melt into his hands.

'_Vanima Tauriel.'_ _Lovely Tauriel._

'Please go,' she breathed, in a strangled voice.

'Then push me away,' he murmured, his lips at her throat. His hands brushed her hair over her shoulder, and the feel of his hands on her bare shoulders made her bite down on her lip.

'Push me away, Tauriel.'

She couldn't. She didn't want to.

He knew she couldn't. He dropped his hand from the door, pressing them around her waist and pulling her against him, her bare legs brushing against his boots, her shoulders and her collarbones pressing against the fabric of his tunic. She looked up at him, and was taken aback by the blaze of fire in the grey eyes.

'Never in my life... have I ever seen something so... divine,' he said. But even he sounded as though he was struggling - forcing himself not to rip the cloth from her body and taking her at that very second. He kissed her once - a startlingly rough kiss against her mouth - and then stepped away from her, leaving the room without a backward glance. The door shut behind him.

Tauriel let out a gasp, sinking to the floor. She didn't realize her legs had turned to jelly.

* * *

><p>After she had dressed and braided her hair, she stepped into the Throne Hall to meet the rest of the Guards. Thranduil did not acknowledge her presence in the room, but the other Elves moved to the side to give her a preferential seating space - such as the rank of the Captain encouraged.<p>

Thranduil was talking.

'As you may have realized, the Orcs - as filthy and disgusting as they are, manage to keep churning out thousands of themselves to create numerous armies.'

One of the Elves interjected.

'But has Erebor not quelled them?'

Thranduil gave a grim smile. 'To a point. But now that the Battle is over, they have assumed that many of the Elvish Guard have been decimated and brought down. I have received information that they plan on raiding Mirkwood soon in an attempt to further reduce our numbers.'

Tauriel felt her stomach knot.

Rennyn, her friend, stood up.

'My King, then we should take a company and take out their leaders before they attempt anything further.'

'_Amin weera lassen lle.' I agree with you._ Thranduil nodded. 'You are right Rennyn. It was my first option.'

'You cannot seriously be thinking of riding into Orc territory!' Tauriel found herself crying out.

Thranduil looked at her coldly. 'What is your alternative, brilliant Tauriel?'

'Prepare an army or a retaliation here! Be prepared for them if they come among us! Don't ride into their midst!'

'Orcs are notoriously stupid,' chimed in the first Elf who had spoken. 'If we are able to kill their leaders then they will be like chickens without heads - they will not know what to do. The lower class and breed of Orc has as much battle strategy sense as does a Hobbit child.'

'Yes but you act like their leaders are easy to defeat!' Tauriel responded, on her feet now. 'Thorin Oakenshield was killed! Fili.. and Kili..' she took a deep breath. 'They were brilliant soldiers and they were killed!'

'I believe my first rank of Guards and I will be tactical and a force to reckon with,' Thranduil cut across her. 'I will take my first rank. Twenty five of you.'

'Then I-'

'Not you, Tauriel.'

The rage burned in her throat, like bile. 'You cannot-'

'I have spoken.'

He turned in a whirl of silk and exited the meeting. Tauriel could feel the tears brimming in her eyes - tears of frustration and anger. All around her was a buzz of activity as the Elves began excitedly discussing Orcs and stupidity and battle plans - and it became too much for her.

She stormed out after the King.

'_DOLLE NA LOST!'_ she shouted, causing him to stop in his tracks. _YOU ARE STUPID!_

He looked at her with such bemusement at her gall - that she felt like a little child about to be slapped by a rough parent. But she held her ground.

'How can you ride into battle against those Orc commanders with only twenty five guards? How will you force me to stay here?'

'You will do as you are told, Tauriel,' he replied, his teeth gritted.

'I cannot watch you go.'

The words burst from her before she could stop herself. She clasped a hand over her mouth. His cold bemusement flickered, briefly switching to a look of resignation.

'I am the King of Mirkwood, Tauriel. I must do what I must do. I will not put you into this fight.'

'I can _help -'_'

He held up a hand to stop her. She bit her lip to keep from screaming at him - from punching him - from stabbing him with an arrow. And he could see it in her face.

The icy arrogance set his face again, and he turned and left her standing in the hallway. He paused halfway down the corridor, turning - but not facing her.

'I have already lost Legolas to the world, Tauriel. But I will not lose again.'

* * *

><p><em><strong>Hi everyone! This was a little late - and I'm sorry. But I hope you all have a Happy New Year and this year is beautiful for you all! Thank you so much for all the wonderful comments and reviews on the story so far, you all have truly made my day. I hope you continue to keep up and review. xx<strong>_


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